


Lady Moira's Last Dance

by Douglas_the_Bruce



Category: BUJOLD Lois McMaster - Works, Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 18:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17688788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Douglas_the_Bruce/pseuds/Douglas_the_Bruce
Summary: A different view of Lady Moira





	Lady Moira's Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and settings belong to Lois McMaster Bujold, to whom this is a grateful homage. 
> 
> This short story came to me in a dream; I was one of the characters in the story. I woke up and the story mostly wrote itself, for which I'm grateful. 
> 
> The story takes place near the end of Bujold's novel Captain Vorpatril's Alliance. For the uninitiated, the novel is set on Barrayar, the capital planet of a three planet empire, hundreds of years in the future. At the time of the novel, Cetaganda is a rival multi-planet empire, with a relationship between the two perhaps resembling that between the US and the Soviet Union in the early 1970's. Nearly one hundred years before this story, Cetaganda had used its advanced technological might to invade and occupy Barrayar, before being forced off by Barrayaran guerrillas. 
> 
> Lady Moira, on whom this story centers, is one of the upper-caste, long-lived Cetagandans, called "haut." The haut are endeavoring to gradually genetically engineer themselves into being the apogee of humanity, or even post-human. When she failed to make the cut to be promoted into the highest ranks of the Cetagandan gene engineering cadre, the Star Crèche, Lady Moira was instead awarded as a wife to one of the Cetagandan generals who occupied Barrayar, and thereafter was forced into exile by the Barrayarans' victory. 
> 
> The plot of Captain Vorpatril's Alliance revolves around the (spoiler alert!) unexpected marriage of Lady Moira's granddaughter, Tej, to Captain Lord Ivan Vorpatril. Their marriage is followed by the visit to Barrayar of Lady Tej's parents (Baron and Baronne Arqua), siblings, and Lady Moira, with the goal of retrieving treasure hidden on Barrayar during the Cetagandan occupation of Barrayar, so they can fund their recovery of their captured territory in their home planet of Jackson's Whole by. This story picks up shortly after the Barrayaran Emperor, Gregor Vorbarra (who is cousin to Captain Lord Vorpatril), has decided to award Tej's parents part of the treasure (which he could have confiscated in full), in hopes of developing a mutually advantageous alliance with the Baron and Baronne. The story then goes on beyond the canonical text to discuss other of Lady Moira's motivations. 
> 
> Other characters include Emperor Gregor's other cousin, Lord Miles Vorkosigan, whose history involves extraordinary performance in espionage and inter-galactic relations for Emperor Gregor; Miles's mother, perhaps the most famous woman on Barrayar, Countess Vorkosigan, who is known for her keen strategic sense and insight into people. Lady Alys is Captain Vorpatril's mother, a member of the high Barrayaran nobility, an exemplar of the high nobility's values and propriety, and a very deep cover intelligence agent at the highest levels of Barrayar society; Christos is her servant/bodyguard. Shiv is Baron Shiv Arqua, Lady Tej Vorpatril's father and Lady Moira's son-in-law. Byerly is Byerly Vorrutyer, a high society fop who is also an intelligence agent with profound loyalty to Barrayar but who has fallen in love with Lady Tej's sister and thus has been assigned to accompany the Baron and Baronne, Lady Tej's siblings, and Lady Moira and give them covert aid in restoring their fortunes after they depart Barrayar, while also keeping an eye on them. Oh, and I've taken a few liberties with wormhole travel time, to enable all the characters to be present.
> 
> Slightly before this story begins, nearly all the Arqua family, including Lady Moira, are planning return to Jackson's Whole….

Lady Alys smiled at Lady Moira. "As you will be leaving today, I was hoping we could have one last chat; it could be quite some time before we can talk again. If you will, we can have a tete-a-tete in my office, which I believe you haven't seen. It's quite a bit larger than Simon's, as I'm not yet fully retired." She gestured with one hand, and Moira walked ahead, followed by Alys and Christos.

Lady Alys's faced looked a bit drawn, Moira thought. While the Barrayaran noblewoman had done quite well for a demi-barbarian in meeting the proprieties, undoubtedly the effort of hosting such a group under challenging circumstances had been wearying for one of unimproved capabilities. Well, it would soon be over. The trio entered the en-suite lift and rose a level.

Lady Alys lead the way to an entry door on the right. "I think you may find the décor a bit surprising," she said, and motioned Moira to enter. The lighting was surprisingly dim. "Go on in," Alys said. "I'll just bring up the lights." 

Moira stopped short as the lights came on. Facing her were Emperor Gregor standing in his dress blues and full regalia, accompanied by several of the ImpSec officers she'd seen yesterday who were sitting next to another man in green with the appearance of a recent wormhole jump, Dr. Weddell - who'd been at the earlier Star Chamber hearing - a woman with roan hair, and a short man she hadn’t met, in Barrayaran formal wear. And a half a dozen soldiers in full biotainer suits. 

In a clear, clipped voice, Lady Alys said, "Lady Moira, it remains to be seen whether you are overreaching, desperate, cloyingly nostalgic, or merely senescent. That will be determined by others, as this will be our last conversation, whatever your remaining lifespan." Stepping closer, she bit off, under her breath, "My son, you fool. You attack my son, your own descendants, and my planet, after eating my food in my own home. Fool." Lady Alys and Christos withdrew, and the door closed behind them.

Moira used a quick haut breathing exercise to regain her composure. "Well," she said to the room at large, "this seems quite an overdone welcome for a single grandmother."

Emperor Gregor faced her more directly. "Not at all," he said in chill tones. "Lady Moira, we are here to determine whether it is safe to let you live, safe to let your family live, and safe to allow your married granddaughter to live. Once We've reached decisions on the essentials, we may be able to turn to other matters. Much depends on your responses."

Did they know? How had they found out? Her heart sank. Still, how much did they know? Perhaps she had a…what was the term Shiv used? Yes, a hole card. Knowing she displayed neither fear nor dishonesty, she said, "Emperor Gregor, this is not at all the Deal you entered into with Shiv. You expressly agreed-"

"But you've been working a Deal of your own all long, haven't you, Lady Moira ghem Estif? One which might have balanced nearly a century of humiliation, as you seem to see it."

The short man turned towards her, and she saw a glint on this tunic, dangling from his neck. Was that an Order of Merit? How in all the nebulae did a Barrayaran savage have the highest possible Cetagandan honor? A memory bubbled up from a post-Komarr back-channel briefing, perhaps 10 years ago. Hadn't there been been a Barrayaran at the time of Empress Lisbet Degtiar's death? If only she'd been able to get a more thorough briefing…. 

The short man caught her unconscious stare and gave her a knife-edged smile. "Yes, this isn't my first encounter with haut ladies whose goals outstretched their abilities. Or even ba."

Emperor Gregor waved a hand to stop this impending torrent of words. "Yes, Lord Vorkosigan, I'm sure you have more to say. Later, please." Silenced for the moment, the short man stared intently.

Emperor Gregor continued. "Let Us be succinct, Lady Moira. If your family is to survive, much less leave on schedule, if you are to survive, We're going to require you to be entirely forthcoming. You have this one opportunity; We suggest you use it. Putting it in terms We've been told you may understand, surrender and cooperate, and mercy is possible. Defy Us, and it is not. To…support you in that effort, we are going to briefly spell out all we know about your efforts, and what we surmise. General Allegre?"

One of the army officers in green stood, staring at Moira as if she were an experimental animal, determining whether she was to be killed or merely neutered. "Sire, our sole clue appeared in Captain Vorpatril's debriefing, particularly complete under the circumstances, as identified by Captain Mozorov." The other man in green, the jump-lagged one, somehow with the look of a scholar, nodded his tired head. "Captain Vorpatril noted the various items in that bunker that evoked anyone's attention, including his own. Historic documents, sigil knives, old clothing, a biotainer girdle, gold, some self-igniting chemical…and a brooch."

Moira gave a barely controlled exhalation. All hope is gone, she thought. They know. But if they know, what game were they playing? 

Allegre continued. "That brooch sparked Captain Mozorov's interest. Why would it, of all the unimaginably valuable items in the bunker, be noteworthy? He messaged me, and we followed up. Fortunately, Lady Moira left the brooch in her room, perhaps to avoid drawing attention to it. In any event, it worked to our benefit. We obtained the brooch surreptitiously, and had it inspected by Dr. Weddell. I turn to him now for a fuller explanation."

Dr. Weddell rose and nodded to Gregor. "As we had mere suspicions, and also given the unknown possible contents of the brooch, my team used a combination of inspection methodologies. After trying positron emission scans, background radiation probes, and magnetic resonance imaging, a focused weak neutrino interaction pseudo-lens enabled us to…" At the sight of both Allegre and Gregor making "do go on" hand gestures, he smoothly shifted to "determine that the brooch contained organic material dating from the period of the Cetagandan invasion. Upon further investigation, it appears that in addition to the portions of the brooch that seemed to contain a genetic survey of Barrayar circa the Cetagandan invasion, one specific portion of the brooch contained a particularly intricate human retrovirus. Our first analysis suggests that it would not have been possible to craft the retrovirus without the genetic survey as a foundation." 

Dr. Weddell continued. "That retrovirus is apparently is designed to deliver a gene-altering payload solely intended to make one specific alteration to Barrayaran male reproductive cells and genes. Based on our modeling, it would progressively lower post-pubescence levels of testosterone, generation after generation, with some immediate drop-off upon infection. As best we can tell, the retrovirus targets Vor males, particularly the high Vor, and specifically those in the Vorbarra and Vorkosigan lines—presumably because of their roles in expelling the Cetas from Barrayar. " 

He coughed, and then moved back from the political to the scientific. "The gene sequence would be transmitted both by direct inheritance, and also through viral shedding. The viral shedding could provide a nasty infection vector, as there would be no overt signs of infection, and the virus might be spread through casual touch. There are no indications of air-borne transmission pathways." He paused, and looked up for further guidance.

Gregor spoke gravely. "Thank you, Dr. Wedell. Have you been able to project the consequences of this change?"

"It is difficult to estimate population-level effects, or even for subgroups." More Imperial hand rolling. "The question is complicated by the apparent design of the gene complex to randomly skip generations, perhaps in an effort to mask the cause of the decrease in testosterone levels, to make it appear to be caused by something else. Nonetheless, in six to eight generations, even allowing for some level of natural resistance, the effect would be to drop mean population testosterone by 75%, ranging up to 95%. Results in those genetically targeted may occur somewhat sooner, perhaps immediately in especially vulnerable gene groupings. Reproduction would be impossible other than by technological assistance."

Dr. Weddell paused and looked to General Allegre, who spoke. "The mode of administration was to be via a personal lubricant commercially available on Barrayar, marketed as suitable for both easing discomfort in older women as well as enhancing pleasure for both individuals and couples. We found a vial of this lubricant in Lady Moira's quarters, in a small cloth bag, this morning. The bag included a note addressed to Lady Vorpatril, wishing her well in her marriage, and underscoring the usefulness of sexual allure in a successful marriage. Dr. Weddell identified the presence of the retrovirus in the vial."

Emperor Gregor's faced hardened. "Dr. Weddell. Your report mentioned other consequences?"

"Yes. Feminization of targeted Barrayar males—serious decreases in muscle mass, and significant decrements in assertiveness and risk-taking. However, to be fair, these could be offset to some extend by administration of external testosterone. However, I would expected there to be homeostatic limitations…"

This threatened flow of erudition has cut off by an Imperial hand wave. "Very good, Dr. Weddell." He turned towards Moira. "Lady Moira, to be clear, these facts support charges of conspiracy to commit acts of biological warfare, attempted genocide, and biological assault. Oh, and given your only married granddaughter's reported appreciation of her husband's masculinity, I leave to your imagination the impact on your relationship with Lady Vorpatril of her learning you intended to geld her husband, using her as your blade." He nodded to General Allegre. "What have you been able to ascertain of motive?"

"Sire, in the absence of hard data, we speculate.…" At the rise of an Imperial eyebrow, Allegre cut himself short. "Yes, Sire. Based on Dr. Weddell's dating of the retrovirus, we rule out any more personal intent towards yourself or Captain Vorpatril, looking rather to a long-running plan. While Your agents are still running down leads regarding Lady Moira's possible communications with Cetaganda, an initial public records review made it clear that she had regular access to Cetagandans of various status on Jackson's Whole, but we have no positive or negative evidence of communications. Further, her connection with a "Carlo" on Old Earth, the source of the mycoborer, is suspicious. While I'm waiting on the results of a deeper analysis, we have already determined that this Carlo may have commercial connections to Cetaganda, but we are as yet unable to confirm other possible connections. Thus, while we can cannot confirm the possibility that this was planned by the highest levels of the current Cetagandan government, neither can we deny it. It certainly doesn't appear planned by the Cetas."

He paused, eyes furrowing. "Based on facts on hand and reasonable inferences, it appears that Lady Moira suspiciously quickly found the retrovirus brooch, indicating her earlier participation in this hypothesized plan. She then inserted the retrovirus into a carrier initially aimed at Captain Vorpatril as Patient Zero for a gene-altering pandemic. Moving into the realm of speculation regarding intent, it's reasonable to assume that Lady Moira is seeking revenge on Barrayar for the twice-over loss of her status on both Barrayar and Komarr. Lord Vorkosigan may have more."

A humorless smile flashed across the small man's face as he stood and the officer sat. What was his name? Mike? Michael? No, Miles, that was it. "Sire. ImpSec's initial review shows no prior attempts to retrieve the brooch. This suggests at least two possibilities. First, it may be that Cetaganda's interactions with Barrayar have led them onto a more circumspect, or at least patient, strategy. In other words, they may now consider the potential costs to outweigh the gains, and have abandoned this option. Alternatively, and at least equally likely as confirmed by the reported testimony of Lady Moira via Lady Vorpatril, she is probably the only surviving conspirator. "

Miles continued. "Based on my experience, the bitterness evoked in some haut ladies at being cast aside by the Star Crèche has no real Barrayaran parallel. Perhaps the closest analogy would be a combination of a parent's response to the kidnapping of a child and the feeling of betrayal by a faithless spouse in a long-term relationship. In the case I'm most personally familiar with, multiple murders were no barrier to a haut lady's efforts."

"My current hypothesis is that Lady Moira intended to present this genocide as a fait accompli to the haut, in return for admission to the Star Crèche. She might also be motivated by some drive for revenge on Barrayar, a planet she considers a repository of benighted barbarians, and which kept her from completing this project nearly 100 years ago, and then sent her into a life of doubled exile on Komar, destroying whatever status she had retained by marrying ghem General Estif."

Was the stunted barbarian telepathic? Even the best haut strategists couldn't extrapolate like that! 

"Sire, any further analysis of motive would enter uncomfortably far into into the realm of speculation. However, as a matter of strategy this is closest to a strategy of desperation, which seems…strange. With the brooch secured, Lady Moira surely could have arranged a return visit to Barrayar and a more certain mode of dispersion. What if Lady Tej had simply set aside or even discarded the gift? The urgency of the intended delivery is in tension with the undisturbed decades since the development of the retrovirus." He turned to stare intently at Moira, "The best strategies run on rails, as I once told your Celestial Lord. He did not disagree. Your strategy barely runs at all." He nodded dismissively, and sat.

Moira's heart fell even further. The Barrayaran had advised the Celestial Lord? 

Emperor Gregor looked at her. "To sum up, We face overwhelming evidence of attempted genocide and undeclared war, for at most doubtful political gain, and most likely for purely personal motives." A long pause. "The floor is yours, Lady Moira."

She stood, and looked directly at him. "I can think of nothing I could say that would fit any notion you might have of a defense. Please act as you see best. It would be gracious to be allowed see my family one last time, before execution, imprisonment, exile, or whatever you've decided on. I ask that you leave my family untouched, which is in your own interest. After all, they played no role in this, and will undoubtedly prove to be good allies to the extent of your mutual goals." She sat, and gazed into her lap, suddenly enormously weary. To come so close…

A discreet cough caused her to look up. Was that pity she saw on Emperor Gregor's face? "I believe you misapprehend your situation, Lady Moira. This is not a court; I'm not looking for a defense. I'm going to give you one last, best chance. Again, surrender and cooperate," said Gregor clearly, "and mercy is possible. Defy Us, and it is not."

Was their game something sadistic? What were they looking….Despite herself, a sudden wave of hope jolted her to full wakefulness. Did they think she had something to…ahh. So typical of those with no real appreciation for the aesthetic, she thought. It the situation hadn't been so dire, it would be appallingly cute; they were looking for a Deal, as Shiv would say. But it did mean they thought she had something of value. Oh, of course. She stood up smoothly.

"Emperor Gregor," she said. "I believe I understand you correctly. You seek my historical knowledge of events during the Ninth Satrapy, and my knowledge of the genetic survey taken at that time, as well as the techniques used to design the retrovirus. It goes without saying that you seek, and have, my pledge to take no further action against the Barrayaran Empire, its citizens, and its interests. I have no relationship with any Cetagandan military or espionage service, merely a few attenuated familial connections, so I have nothing to offer in that realm. What do you offer me? 

The roan-haired woman stirred, looking directly at Emperor Gregor for the first time. The respectful looks given her by both the Emperor and Miles suggested she was clearly someone of import. An ImpSec deep cover analyst? The Emperor opened a hand to her. "Countess and Vicereine Vorkosigan? We greatly appreciate your urgent response to Our request to be here for this session. Your counsel, along with Lord Vorkosigan's, is the primary reason we have not already imprisoned Lady Moira. Please go ahead."

The Countess stood and walked nearer to Moira, looking at her closely, as if confirming a belief. "Lady Moira, you have spoken of the superficial. Hardly much to offer in return for the generosity-"

To her own surprise, Moira uttered a noise that in a Barrayaran could easily have been mistaken for a snort, and looked intently at Countess Vorkosigan. "Don't speak to me of Barrayaran generosity. Despite the graciousness of Dowager Lady Vorpatril, to whom I owe a debt I will never be able to repay, Barrayar has offered me infinitely less than it has stolen—my youth, my love, my future. No, if we are to be to be striking a Deal here, please do not insult us all by cloaking its sharp edges in soothing pleasantries." 

The Countess Vorkosigan gave her the first real smile she'd received, albeit tinged with pity. "You were the first to speak of a Deal, Lady Moira. I believe the Emperor is offering you something much more—redemption." Moira looked at Countess Vorkosigan, stunned. Redemption? What were they up to? She'd swear she hadn't missed any clues….

"Try thinking of it this way, Lady Moira. Gregor is about to gain a new family member, as well as an essential alliance in a galatically vital location. It is not for me to determine their relative importance to him, although he is not noticeably long on family, as yet. Further, while either may not be aware of it, or have pushed it out of your consciousness, the relationship between Barrayar and Cetaganda is no longer the nuclear warfare it was when you were last on our planet. Barrayar and Cetaganda now aspire to a more sophisticated relationship. The element linking all of these, and you, is trust. So it would seem to me that the most valuable asset you have to offer, as least as valuable as your historic and genetic knowledge, is trust. Are you willing to trust Gregor, and us? And are you willing to be someone He, and we, can trust?"

There was a stunned silence for several seconds. Lord Vorkosigan started to interrupt it, "Mother, I don’t think she's quite ready…" 

"Miles, darling, we agreed that you would speak to your expertise, and I to mine. Lady Moira, have you considered…"

"No!" Moira cried out, surprising herself. "I will not betray the haut!" 

"An interesting response," Countess Vorkosigan said, a slight edge in her voice. "Especially given that no one has asked you to. Come now, Lady Moira, you are a trained haut, if in somewhat distressed circumstances. You can do better than this. Tell me, what does the vehemence of your reply tell you?" A long silence ensued. "All right, final chance, oh stubborn haut," Lady Vorkosigan said, almost teasingly. "If someone else replied so vehemently, what would it say of them?"

The word emerged almost unwillingly, bitten off. Her voice cracked out "That they were conflicted. But…" Moira trailed off.

Countess Vorkosigan spoke. "Yes, conflicted. It's not surprising. The Haut expelled you twice over, Lady Moira. I believe that in your deepest heart you do not blame the Barrayarans for their victories, but rather the Cetagandans for their abandonment—for you, a mirroring of the abandonment you experienced when the Star Crèche cast you out to a ghem marriage. And of course, the deceased General ghem Estif's failures to protect you from further exile undoubtedly increased your enmity towards Barrayar."

Countess Vorkosigan paused, reflectfully. Moira remained silent for seconds that felt like hours. "Not enough? I notice that as of today, your last day on this planet, you had not given your poisoned gift to your granddaughter, although you have had more than three days to do so. Someone of settled mind would have acted sooner, no? Can you truly say you were not—and even right now, are not—of two minds?" 

"No, Lady Moira, I think that your real anger is at Cetaganda. Though I do believe that it is deep enough for you to consider putting your family at risk. After all, your family of origin—that is, the haut—betrayed you."

The Barrayaran witch's insight was inhuman. Countess Vorkosigan knew things about her that Moira didn't know. She felt a shift start inside herself, something like the first small tumbling rocks of a landslide. Moira bit the inside of her lip to try to distract herself so she could regain some footing, some focus. Still, the Countess persisted. 

"However, we do not ask you to betray the haut, no matter what you may have thought, if I understand Gregor's intentions correctly. We do not ask for Cetagandan state or military secrets, even if nearly a century old. I'll say it again: we ask for your trust, and your loyalty. I think you'll find that breaking with Cetaganda is not the same as betraying it." The corners of her eyes crinkled in some secret amusement. "In fact, I think you'll find it's a relief." 

At this something snapped within Moira, raging, and too strong to hold back, "Why haven't they killed me?" she asked herself. "I'd kill me. It's the prudent thing to do." With an effort she regained some control, and with only a slight edge in her voice asked Lady Vorkosigan, "What could I possibly have that is so valuable to you?

Lady Vorkosigan said, drily, "Perhaps you underestimate yourself, Lady Moira. Your worth is not merely – not even mainly - in your scientific knowledge. You set too low a value on your yourself. Have you never reflected on how unique a path you've taken?"

Emperor Gregor added, "Surely you did not think that We offered Baron and Baronne Arqua 400 million marks and nearly as valuable covert aid, solely for the sake of a speculative galactic alliance with a deposed Baron? While my best analysts suggest that this investment bears a strong likelihood of a high return, those same analysts also set a high value on the information you, and as far as they could determine, only you, possess, as a matter of historical and cultural worth, not military worth."

Emperor Gregor continued, "And as Lady Vorkosigan mentioned, it seems you have a somewhat antiquated notion of the relationship between Barrayar and Cetaganda. Our two empires are edging slowly onto a new path of interstellar relations, thanks in no small part to the contributions of Lord Vorkosigan." Miles looked at his Emperor, a small smile accompanying an expression of remembrance on his face.

Emperor Gregor paused, and took a sip of water. "While I will not reveal state secrets today, in the recent past a self-serving entity sought to spark a terminal war of extinction between Barrayar and Cetaganda. Better communication and understanding between our two Empires provide the best bulwark against any such future error. To Our knowledge, you are the only living person who has familial ties to both haut Cetaganda and the highest levels of Barrayar, who has lived both on a Cetagandan planet and Barrayar, who has a lived understanding of both cultures, and who has the likelihood of grandchildren of both Cetagandan and Barrayaran descent with both heritages being proudly accepted by the parents. I know of no single person better suited to serve as a cultural interpreter to help avoid misunderstandings as our two Empires enter into a new era. Do you?"

He paused, but Moira found nothing to say. For the first time, his faced conveyed, yes, frustration, but—that wasn't pity, was that warmth? "I hope We have established that We are willing to place Our trust in you, and yours, and that We believe your as yet latent bio-warfare does not reflect your deepest convictions. Your ties of affection with your current family are self-evident; We see no reason why with time they could not extend to your new family. And speaking as Count Vorbarra, I would truly regret launching a family member 's marriage by ordering the execution of a new relative. So, for the last and final time, what say you, Lady Moira?"

Moira looked down and noticed her hands were clenched in her lap. Finally, she looked up, sat erect. She started to talk, but no sound emerged. She looked down again. A bit later she looked up, tears in her eyes, her voice steady, "Even if I do trust you, how will you know that I trust you? How will you know, or trust, that I've truly broken with Cetaganda?"

A wry, genuine smile broke though the Emperor's somber expression. "Oh, I have no doubt that you will find a way. Perhaps Byerly will help; he's rather resourceful, when pressed."

Epilogue  
Lady Moira and Byerly left the stunned Cetagandan delegation behind, exited the House Dyne chamber, and rejoined their Arqua security detail. Byerly did not offer his usual voluble chatter. Indeed, one of the more observant guards thought that Byerly seemed somewhat dazed, but diplomatically maintained standard silence. The senior guardsman offered Lady Moira his arm, which she accepted. 

After a moment, Byerly attempted to regain his usual savoir-faire. "Well, that was…interesting, Lady Moira. As unexpected as it was unrestrained." Was it just his impression, or was she more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, like a large sated feline after a meal?

"Byerly, you've never seen me be unrestrained. But your advice regarding this little contretemps has been helpful."

He shook his head, minutely but emphatically. "Oh, I would not have dreamed of giving advice. I merely offered" he waved airily "a few speculations, without really knowing what you had in mind. It makes everything so much more deniable. Besides, I suspect advising you on such an affair would be like advising a star on fusion - at close range. And perhaps as risky. Oh, and for the record, it wasn't your lack of restraint I was referring to. The look on that Cetagandan envoy's face almost made my near-heart attack worthwhile. Almost."

The corners of Moira's mouth turned up. "Byerly, your time on Jackson's Whole has not diminished your ability to flatter. Please do report all this" a brief wave "to your Imperial Master in your next report for him. I trust…" Her voice trailed off thoughtfully off as her pace slowed. Byerly perforce slowed with her, eyebrows lifted in inquiry. After a moment of near stillness, her pace picked back up.

"That will do, Byerly. Just report that."


End file.
